For the first time since he was attacked, the pain in his side wasn't excruciating.

Jinyoung blinked at the concrete ceiling trying to recall how he wasn't lying dead in the woods. Looking down, he saw clean strips of white cloth bandaged his torso.

He sat up and took in his surroundings. Grey sunlight filtered in through a small rectangular window near the ceiling revealing a plain, sparsely furnished room. Just the metal bed he was lying in and a table with a jug. The exit was sealed by a large wooden door with metal bars on its small window. It looked awfully like a prison door...

Jinyoung was just about to stand up when the sound of a bolt sliding back rang out. He sat back rigid on the bed, half terrified half curious to see who his captor/saviour was. The door was pushed open and Jinyoung was met with a man of average height with slim features and tousled brown hair. His sharp gaze was careful but asserting as he assessed Jinyoung, his narrowing slightly as he did so. He said nothing; it was clear he expected Jinyoung speak first.

"Where am I?" Jinyoung tried to hide the tremble in his voice but it still came out with a waver. He didn't receive a reply at first. The other crossed the space to the table and poured out a cup of water.

"A police station," he said eventually as he passed Jinyoung the cup. Jinyoung took it hesitantly. He swirled the mug as if that would reveal whether the water was poisoned.

Mark watched as the young man gulped down the water. He had a full face with naturally wide eyes. His black hair lay flat on his head with thick strands hiding his forehead. He let out a satisfied sigh when he finished the water and looked up gratefully.

"Thanks."

"What's your name?" Mark asked.

"Jinyoung," the man replied brushing a strand of hair to the side. "What's yours?"

"Mark."

"Did you do this?" Jinyoung gestured to his bandaged injury, "Did you save me?" Mark nodded silently. "Thank you," Jinyoung said earnestly, "I thought I was going to die."

"How did it happen?" Mark questioned unable to hide back his curiosity. Jinyoung let out a breath. He looked up at the ceiling as if it was painful to recall the memory.

"There was an argument," he began hesitantly, "Two of us couldn't agree on where we should go and a fight broke out. I tried to stop them but got caught in the crossfire. Before anyone could do anything to help we were attacked almost out of nowhere by a herd. I got cutoff from the others and was unarmed, so the only thing I thought to do was escape," Jinyoung hung his head in shame, "I abandoned them. I should have stayed to help but ran away. I should have died. I deserve to die."

"There was nothing you could do," Mark attempted to comfort him but only seemed to make things worse. Jinyoung's face crumpled. He put his head in his hands.

"That's the problem. What use am I to them? I can't fight. I can't shoot. I'm a burden. I know I'm not going to survive much longer."

"What's wrong with you?" Mark's words contained more venom than intended. Jinyoung looked up in shock. "No. You won't survive. I'm surprised you've lasted this long with an approach like that. You need to believe, have faith, that you can beat this world."

"Faith?" Jinyoung laughed bitterly, "What use is that? We all lost faith a long time ago." His eyes grew dull, "Hope is dead."

Mark didn't react. He kept his expression cool and calculating. Jinyoung didn't meet his eyes again.

"I should've left you to the walkers," Mark deadpanned before turning and slamming the door shut behind him.